Margaret never expected to come home and see her husband, Martin, anxiously digging in their garden with his ex-wife. Their quiet conversation and dirty hands suggested they were hiding something from the past. When Margaret confronted them, she realized Martin wasn’t as perfect as she had believed. She had heard of men cheating with coworkers, friends, and even exes, but never imagined she’d have to worry about that with Martin. She had always thought he was the perfect man. They met two years ago through a friend, right after she ended a five-year relationship with her ex.
I was at my lowest point, feeling heartbroken, insecure, and doubting myself. That’s when Martin came into my life, like a breath of fresh air. From the start, he was kind and attentive, always listening to me talk about my day without ever seeming bored. What really touched my heart was when he showed up at my door with homemade chicken soup and my favorite romantic comedies on his laptop. “Everyone needs a little care when they’re sick,” he said with a warm smile. I thought, *This is the man I’ve been waiting for.*
One thing I loved about Martin was his cute little quirk—he would stammer when he was nervous or stressed, and I found it adorable. I remember a month into our relationship, he took me to a fancy Italian restaurant to celebrate our “monthiversary.” He was excitedly talking about a new accounting software his company was using when, suddenly, his fork slipped, splattering tomato sauce on his shirt. He turned red and stammered, “I-I’m so s-sorry, I d-didn’t mean to… what a m-mess.” I couldn’t help but smile. I reassured him, saying, “It’s okay, red suits you.” We both ended up laughing about it, and later, over dessert, he told me he stammered when he was stressed.
As we grew closer, Martin started sharing more about his past, including his ex-wife, Janet. He told me she always wanted more—more money, more things, more status—and their marriage fell apart because of her endless demands. He shared stories of maxed-out credit cards, fights over expensive clothes, and her outbursts when they couldn’t afford fancy vacations. “That’s why we broke up,” he said one night while we were cuddling. “I couldn’t keep up with her anymore. It felt like I was drowning, and she kept pushing me down.” I couldn’t believe anyone would treat such a wonderful man that way, and I promised myself I would never be like that. I would love Martin for who he was, not for what he could give me.
A year into our relationship, when Martin proposed, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. Our wedding was small but beautiful, and it was the happiest day of my life. Then came last Tuesday.
I had just spent the weekend at my mom’s and was excited to get home and surprise Martin with his favorite lasagna. But when I pulled into the driveway, I saw something that made me slam on the brakes. Martin and his ex-wife Janet were digging up my garden. I sat in the car, shocked, trying to understand why they were destroying the flowers I had worked so hard on.
I got out of the car and marched over, asking angrily what was going on. Martin looked startled and stammered, which made me even more worried. He only stammered when he was really nervous. Was he cheating with Janet? Were they still together? Why were they digging up the garden?
Janet interrupted, saying they were digging up a time capsule they buried ten years ago when they lived here. Martin agreed, looking embarrassed, and said they thought it would be fun to revisit old memories. I was furious that they would destroy my garden for this.
I stormed into the house, struggling to process everything. Martin and Janet followed, holding the muddy time capsule. Martin asked to talk, but I was too upset. I told them to go ahead and reminisce while I went outside.
As I looked at the damage they had done, I decided to start a bonfire. By the time it was burning well and the sun was setting, I could hear Martin and Janet laughing inside. I called out to them.
“Why don’t you bring that stuff outside? We can have a nice bonfire.” A few minutes later, Martin and Janet joined me outside, and Martin placed the time capsule on the ground. “This is nice,” he said with a smile. I nodded and started pulling out items from the box—old photos and letters. Before Martin could say anything, I threw everything into the fire.
“What are you doing?” Janet asked.
“Burnt bridges should stay burnt,” I replied firmly. “It’s time to focus on our future, not the past.” I watched as the flames destroyed their memories, realizing that this wasn’t how I’d imagined our life together. But maybe from here, we could build something new and real. I also saw that Martin wasn’t the perfect man I thought he was; he had flaws like anyone else.
Janet then said she should leave and quickly walked away. Martin, with tears in his eyes, apologized. “I’m sorry, Margaret. I didn’t know how to tell you about the time capsule. I was afraid you’d think I still had feelings for Janet or that you’d be upset about the garden. I thought if I just dug it up while you were away, it would be over. But I see now I made a big mistake. Can you ever forgive me?”
“I don’t know, Martin,” I said honestly, staring at the fire. “You’ve broken my trust, and that can’t be fixed quickly.”
“We need to talk and work things out,” I continued. “But not tonight. I need some space.”
“Of course,” Martin said, nodding. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” As he went back inside, I stayed by the fire, thinking about replanting the garden with new seeds and soil. Maybe our relationship could start fresh too. Only time would tell which direction we’d take. But one thing was certain: my view of Martin had changed forever.